I Who Have Nothing
by Angelique Daemon
Summary: Another night where Anders tears himself up about things that could never be... no matter how much he wishes things were different. One-sided romance.


**Author's note: **This was a brainworm I got and couldn't shake. I generally don't write song fics, but this wouldn't leave my head, so I gave it a shot. Keep in mind I haven't played DA2, I've just watched bits on Youtube, and read a ton of fanfiction... I know, I'm horrible, but I couldn't get this out of my head, and in the DA universe, this was the only set up that came to mind. Sorry for any OOC-ness, and how terrible I am at first person (still trying to force myself to write in it to get better)... but not particularly sorry for the slashing. Enjoy, and please review!

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><p>What was I even doing here? Well, obviously Hawke was my friend, so <strong>of course<strong> if he threw some kind of gala event and invited me, I'd come but... **he** was here and **they **were make cow eyes at each other. Well that was not entirely true, **they** weren't making eyes at each other, so much as occasionally looking at each other, but the way **their** expressions softened it was just... sickening.

I finished my glass of wine... How many was that now? A lot, I knew that much. I should be home working on my manifesto, not nobbing it up in Hightown, and being the jealous wallflower. It was unfitting of me, and Justice agreed. I should just... I should go. I didn't think I could stand watching them anymore.

Just as I set my empty goblet aside, Isabela appeared. Maker's breath, but I hated rogues sometimes! Just like the damn Commander, appearing out of nowhere and giving me a bleeding heart attack...

"Helloooo..."

I blinked and realized that the pirate was waving a hand in front of my face, and forced myself to focus, "What?" I snapped.

She just grinned, "You've had an awful lot tonight, haven't you?" she asked cheerfully, "Or have you even noticed with all the steamy jealous looks you've been shooting at Hawke?"

I felt my cheeks burn, but attributed it to the wine, "I don't know what you're talking about," I huffed, "Though you're right in that I've had a bit much to drink. Tell Hawke goodbye for me."

I didn't get any further than a step before she caught my arm. "Oh come on, Anders," she purred, pulling me back into the shadows in which I'd been standing, "We've got a **real** treat, and you just **can't** leave before the band plays!"

Band? There was a band? I pulled my gaze away from the two I'd been glaring at and blinked blurrily at a handful of people with instruments, and a slender redheaded woman who was chatting pleasantly with Varric. When had they arrived?

"I couldn't believe our luck," Isabela said with a chuckle, "Running into Leliana was just **perfect** timing," I felt her warm gaze on me and forced myself to look at the Rivaini, "Just one song, yeah?" she asked, "Then you can stagger back to the clinic."

I found myself unable to come up with a coherent reason not to... and it gave me more time to watch **him** so... I sighed, "Alright, **one** song, but then I've **really** got to go."

"Of course." She was up to something... she **had** to be up to something to be so gleefully agreeable.

Before I could focus properly though, the music started. It was heavy, even without words, the swell of it was like an emotional tide, sweeping me along with it like a rowboat in a typhoon. I could no more walk away now than I could if **he** had been standing in front of me.

The singer, Leliana, stepped forward, "_I,_" the syllable was made entirely of longing and pain, and desire, and the expression on her face matched, "_I who have nothing_." She had my full attention, and when her steely blue eyes swept the room, I felt as though she not only saw me, but saw **into** me... and shared every ounce of my anguish. "_I, I who have no one,_" her gaze moved on, and I quickly tore mine away, intending to look down, but as my gaze traveled across the room, it fell on **him**. "_Adore you, and want you so..._" Wait, what? "_I'm just a no one,_" how very true... "_With nothing to give you but oh...I Love You._"

Maker damn my soul, but it was true! I've been **aching** for **him** for years. Seeing **him** constantly, traveling with **him**, being so damned **close** to **him**... but having my touch always rebuked, never burying my fingers in **his** soft hair, never whispering into **his** ear, never taking **his** face gently into my hands and brushing my lips over **his**... it was **torture**! **He** was always close... and yet always so bloody **far**! To make matters worse, I'd had a chance... a chance when **they** were apart where I could have...

Could have what? Gotten killed for even trying? No... there was nothing I could have done that would change anything. Even if I had told **him**, **he** would have either snorted and dismissed it as a bad joke, or been disgusted.

"_He can take you anyplace he wants, to fancy clubs and restaurants,_" it was true. I could barely show my face in polite company, let alone afford to go anywhere but the Hanged Man... and even then only occasionally, "_But I can only watch you with, my nose pressed up against the window pane..._" Not only did the words match me to a 't', the melodic cry of frustration and despair that followed gave a sound to my inner torment at always being the odd one out, the only one left in the cold, the only one completely powerless to change how things were, the only one utterly incapable of seeking happiness with someone I cared about...

"_I, I who have nothing_." When had I started moving? I wasn't sure, but I was crossing the room as though in a dream, slipping gracelessly around people, driven by a sudden burning **need** to just be **near** **him**... "_I, I who have no one_," there **they** were, not far away now, their body language indicating a private, perhaps even intimate conversation, "_Must watch you, go dancing by, wrapped in the arms of somebody else_," it **was** like a dance, the way **he** leaned in to catch a word, and then leaned back to give that wry little half smile, the way **they** drifted closer together when **they** thought no one else was watching. A lifted hand tenderly brushed feathery strands of soft hair from **his** eyes, and ghosts down **his** cheek, even as **he** turns his head as though to duck away, but no one's fooled... **he** loves the touch... "_When darling it's I_," another anguished note that my heart screams along with.

I stop when two sets of eyes turn to me, one the color of dark chocolate, and the other the color of emeralds. My heart stops, **his** eyes piercing into me, the way they always do. "_Who Loves you._"

"Is something wrong, Anders?" there's concern in Hawke's voice, and his face, but all that's on Fenris' face in anger, annoyance and revulsion. Yes, yes, I'm a filthy abomination, how can I forget?

"No," I said, hating that my voice came out reedy, but unable to breath with **him** looking at me so intently, "I just..."

"_I love you!_"

My brows knit together as I tried to concentrate, "Waited to say goodnight..." I lifted a trembling hand to rub my face, feeling my cheeks burn.

**He** scowls blackly at me, "You've had too much to drink, _mage_," **he** spits the word like a curse, "Hawke is over there."

"_I love you!_"

I wish **he **would just stick **his** hand into my chest and crush my heart literally... I'm sure it would hurt less. I tear my eyes from **his** beautiful, perfect, scowling face, and offer Hawke the weakest, flimsiest smile in Thedas, "Yes... Goodnight Hawke..." My gaze inexorably drifts back to **him**, "Fenris..."

"_I love you..._"


End file.
